


Steamy

by noahwhelk



Series: country club czelk [2]
Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-06
Updated: 2015-12-06
Packaged: 2018-05-05 04:27:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5361371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noahwhelk/pseuds/noahwhelk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>this was written with major contributions from rosie (newtisgay) and collective hcs from manda (dreamtyou) and is (aphroadites)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Steamy

**Author's Note:**

> this is the second installment of rich country club czelk
> 
> [one](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5144504) | two (u r here)

Noah Czerny liked to consider the steam room his second home; more specifically his second bathroom, but it sounded more emotional when he said home. Once his mom sent him articles on the bacterial dangers of saunas, but Noah just skimmed over them. Athlete’s foot was treatable, after all (and he’d never gotten it). Besides, he mused, for the amount of sweat that dripped out of his pores, he _had_ to be losing some weight. Wrestlers sweated the weight away, right? Noah had a very precise body image to uphold, and he used several methods to obtain it.

The part Noah liked most about the steam room wasn’t the effortless work-out part, or the relaxing heat part: it was the naked part. The steam room was one of two places he got to just let loose and be in his birthday suit. (The other—his bathroom.) Plus, it was a country club steam room, all of the men who came in were either Extremely Hetero or pretending to be. And Noah had almost no shame.

“Jesus—Czerny!” Whelk exclaimed as he walked in, a towel wrapped around his hair and his waist. Whelk doubled back and turned around, so he wasn’t facing Noah.

“What?” Noah answered, seeming nonplussed. He kept his eyes closed and his head leaned back where it was before Whelk entered the sauna.

“Why are you naked, and” Whelk peeked over his shoulder briefly “are you wearing your sweatbands?”

“Yes, because—”

“Don’t tell me it’s because of _blemishes_ , there is sweat on your face anyway.” The two of them had been hanging out a lot at the country club since the fateful, nearly tragic, afternoon, and Whelk accumulated a taste for taunting Noah about his habits. Noah grumbled softly behind Whelk.

“I don’t like my hair sticking to my face,” he reasoned.

Whelk made an exasperated noise. “Please cover yourself.”

“No.”

“Please.”

“I don’t have my towel,” Noah admitted and opened his eyes. “And you can learn a lot about men in here.”

“I already know the anatomy of a man,” Whelk protested.

“That’s not. . . Jesus, Whelk come sit down, you’re acting like you’ve never seen a dick before. Do you shut your eyes when you piss?” Whelk grumbled and moved to sit next to Noah, with a noticeable foot and a half between them. “You can learn a lot about why men act like they do,” Noah continued. “Have you ever wondered why Harold is so nice to everyone? Like, borderline, annoying nice?”

Whelk turned his head to look at Noah with a pleading expression, as he desperately wanted Noah to change the subject. “It’s pity.” Noah persisted talking like he didn’t see the face, even though he totally did. “He’s like. . .” Noah held his hands a reasonably large length apart.

“You mean Harold Gardner?” Whelk gasped. “Isn’t he like, eighty?”

Noah let his hands fall onto his thighs. “He was a young man once,” Noah responded with a wistful tone. “I was hoping to get to the root of your acrimony, but you’ve prevented that, so. . .” Noah pouted.

Whelk looked incredulous. “I am _not_ small,” he protested.

“Show me yours and I’ll show you mine,” Noah bargained with a raised eyebrow and a terribl(y handsom)e smirk.

“You’re already showing me yours,” Whelk argued. Noah burst into naughty giggles and lunged toward Whelk’s towel.

“So you gotta uphold your end of the bargain!” Noah grabbed the hem of the towel at Whelk’s waist and yanked, but Whelk had time to secure the towel in place with his hand before Noah could expose him.

“I didn’t make a bargain!” Whelk shrieked in protest when Noah decided that yanking from the hem by Whelk’s knees would give him a better shot, and he was only half-right. Whelk lost grip of his towel and it unfastened and parted, but a shot of adrenaline allowed Whelk to save himself just in time.

“You’re no fun,” Noah glowered and shifted to turn from Whelk and crossed his arms across his chest.

“You aren’t going to guilt me into dropping my towel.” Noah’s façade abruptly ended as he tossed his head toward Whelk with an exasperated sigh.

“Why _not_?” he whined. Whelk felt a little weirded out that Noah was pleading to see his dick. Scratch that. Whelk was extremely weirded out by it. This had never happened to him before. He walked into foreign territory and he didn’t know how to back out without seeming scared (he was) and _acrimonious_. Whelk made a face at the jab at his demeanor.

“Because. . .” Whelk stalled, trying to come up with a reasonable excuse.

“Because you’re embarrassed about your micropenis and don’t want me telling the whole school?” Noah taunted. “Too late: I already mentally texted Samuel.”

Whelk spluttered. “Okay: mental texting hasn’t been invented yet, and I don’t have a micropenis.”

“Well I don’t know how I’d know that, Barrington,” Noah spoke in a slightly condescending tone and formulated a sassy expression.

“You’re making me uncomfortable.”

“I’m making _you_ uncomfortable? Here I am, _embarrassingly_ naked, and you’ve got two towels! You make me feel like I’m indecent or something. That’s making me uncomfortable, for I am a decent man.” Noah’s tone was laced with so much drama that Whelk couldn’t help but laugh.

“Do you _know_ how ridiculous you sound?” Whelk challenged.

“Well at least you know why I’m ridiculous. I’m comfortable with myself.” Noah made a grande gesture toward his nether regions. Whelk made an effort not to look. “I don’t know why you’re so prude. I can only _assume_ it’s because—”

“I _don’t_ have a micropenis!”

Whelk could practically see that Noah was cooking up some mischievous plan. Noah pursed his lips and scooted his butt several inches in Whelk’s direction. Whelk gripped his towel harder and watched Noah carefully. Noah scooted until their hips were almost touching, but pretended that he didn’t move at all. This was both very nerve wracking and very annoying to Whelk, but he didn’t say anything.

After a silent moment, Noah’s fingers flamboyantly flexed and his wrist flicked so his hand was a few inches above Whelk’s knee. Whelk nervously ran his tongue over his bottom lip. Noah traced the tips of his fingers up Whelk’s thigh before slowly walking them a couple of inches under the hem of the towel. Whelk’s hand twitched to grab Noah’s wrist and stop him, but he didn’t make any further move to halt the progression.

As if Noah had done this a million times before (“this” being seducing men into dropping their towels), he leaned in at just the right time and planted his open mouth on Whelk’s neck. Whelk sharply inhaled through his nose and forgot all about the hand, which had, as a matter of fact, not stopped moving.

Whelk turned his head toward Noah, slow and unsure. He’d only kissed one girl, and even though he’d kissed her many times, he wasn’t sure that counted much in favor of experience. Noah’s tongue traced the line of the large artery on Whelk’s neck and disconnected his mouth when he got to Whelk’s jawbone. Their eyes met, and Whelk was about to lean in to seal the deal when the door of the sauna slammed open.

Noah’s hand immediately retracted from under Whelk’s towel (he didn’t notice until right then, but Noah was dangerously close to touching his dick) and snatched the knotted towel from Whelk’s head to set on his lap. Whelk felt a surge of pride along with confusion and adrenaline, because that had to mean Noah got a boner.

“Harold!” Noah chirped as if he hadn’t been about to make out with a boy and simultaneously (hopefully) jerk him off just to see how large his cock was). “How’s Jeanine?”

“Oh, wonderful, wonderful. Just yesterday, she was hosting her book club, which you and I both know is not about reading at all. . .” Whelk tuned out of Harold’s gregarious drone and let his eyes discreetly wander south on the old man. “Goodness me! I’ve forgotten something. I’ll be right back, boys.”

As soon as the door closed, Noah turned to Whelk with a creeper smile. When Whelk returned the expression with a confused one, Noah raised one eyebrow. “Awh!” Whelk exclaimed and looked away. “Yes, I see your point, Czerny.” Whelk rolled his eyes. Why was he even friends with this freak?

Noah exhaled through his nose and leaned into Whelk again, kissing the corner of his mouth. “He said he’d be right back!” Whelk hissed and leaned away from the other boy, excited but nervous.

“Then we’ll lock the door,” Noah suggested, his gaze not leaving Whelk’s mouth.

“And lock poor Harold out? Just so you can drop my towel when I’m weakest? And look at my dick? Czerny, I don’t know what you’ve been smoking, but there is _no way_ I’m agreeing to that.”

“Puh.” Noah turned away and fluffed the towel he stole from Whelk’s head, which had messed up the latter’s hair and splayed strands all across his forehead, and set it neatly over his lap. Whelk eyed the towel.

“Are you going to give that back?” he asked. Noah looked at the towel for a moment before standing up and tossing it fabulously over his shoulders. He took a large step backwards, and before Whelk could register Noah’s proximity to the door, he heard the distinct click of the lock.

“Depends on how badly you want it,” he teased and put one of his knees beside Whelk’s thigh so their hot skin was barely touching. Whelk looked down at the connection. He liked his lips. He wasn’t sure what the right answer was. Would accepting the dick towel be the first stage of foreplay? Or would denying the towel entice Noah to steal his other one? Whelk did not know. Noah’s other knee landed on the bench, and Noah didn’t know whether he should stare at Noah’s stomach or look up.

Once he thought he got to second base with a girl, but then one of his friends told him second base was groping, so he didn’t actually get to second base, but he thought he was mentally there.

He didn’t think being mentally there was enough anymore.

“How did you have this thing wrapped?” Noah asked, and Whelk felt the towel on his head again. Was Noah seriously just returning his towel—Jesus, Whelk was off his game. Whelk decided just to let Noah figure it out and continued to stare at Noah’s stomach. After all of the latter’s bragging about being a star athlete, there was little definition to show for it. His long, pale torso was punctuated below his bellybutton with a small pocket of chub, and Whelk couldn’t help but crack a small smile.

At the same time that Whelk traced his fingers down Noah’s tummy, Noah looped the towel around Whelk’s neck and pulled their faces closer together. Both paused their advances.

“What are you doing?” Noah asked, in a curious, but mostly accusatory tone.

“What are _you_ doing?” Whelk countered.

“I asked you first.”

“I was. . . you’re actually the worst at foreplay,” Whelk answered and rose an eyebrow.

“I am not!” Noah protested and dropped his hips so they rested on Whelk’s thighs. Whelk leaned in laid his open mouth on Noah’s collarbone while simultaneously yanking the towel from around his neck and letting it fall beside them. Noah arched his back into Whelk and Whelk placed his open palm on the small of Noah’s back where a pool of sweat had gathered. In any other circumstance, Whelk might have commented on it, but trying to figure out how big of bruise he could bloom on Noah’s collar was way more fun.

Noah made a noise that Whelk had never experienced, and it made the whole thing that much more exciting. Not that Whelk expected to lose his virginity or anything, but he’d never actually touched a boy like Noah. . . was doing. . .

Whelk detached his lips from Noah’s skin and glanced down a little. Noah had begun to grind against him, and Whelk was beginning to feel dizzy. He wrapped his other arm around Noah’s hips and pulled their groins against each other with more pressure. Noah groaned into Whelk’s ear, his hot breath hit Whelk’s neck and caused him to shudder.

“You were just teasing me, weren’t you?” Noah spoke in a low voice and put his hand on Whelk’s toned bicep, gripping the muscle for purchase. His voice shook a little from pleasure as he continued, “You wanted me to jerk you off the whole time, just wanted to see how much I’d work for it.”

Whelk hummed in response and lightly bit Noah’s throat. “Maybe.” He slid one of his hands across Noah’s hip and down across his inner thigh before gripping Noah’s dick more confidently than he felt. Noah gasped and lightly bit Whelk’s earlobe. In the middle of Whelk’s blind, clumsy hand job, the door began to jingle and shake from someone attempting to enter. Whelk perked his ears and would have heard Harold’s voice had Noah not decided to grind his hips into Whelk’s fist and against the latter’s own hardened cock.

“Just ignore him,” Noah whispered urgently into Whelk’s temple. “He’ll probably just reassure us anyway.” Whelk’s laugh was low and breathy, as he could feel a tight not in the base of his stomach. He couldn’t concentrate very well on the coordination of his hand. “Wh—”

Noah’s supple lips parted and his forehead rested against the nape of Whelk’s neck as white liquid spilled from his dick in sticky ropes. Whelk pressed his lips together and arched his back into Noah. Noah kept rotating his hips until Whelk came also. The two boys slowly stilled and sat together panting in the hot room. Their skin was wet with perspiration, and Harold was still trying to get into the sauna. Whelk heard him request the office bring a key.

“We better let him in.” Whelk broke the silence regretfully and looked at Noah’s flushed features.

“Yeah,” Noah agreed and got off Whelk’s lap, reclaiming the stolen towel to wipe the cum off of himself. “That was fun.”

Whelk didn’t know how to respond, so he just secured his towel around his waist and stood up. There was another silent moment, and Whelk wasn’t sure if it felt thick because of the awkward tension, or because of the steam hanging in the air. Noah broke it by a certain panicky expression rising on his face. “Oh, shit. What time is it?” he asked and grabbed Whelk’s wrist to look at his watch. “Shit. I have soccer practice.”

“You play soccer?” Whelk asked, but Noah was already across the room and unlocking the door.

“Gotta blast,” he said to Whelk and then turned to the old man right outside, “hello Harold.”

Whelk wasn’t sure if he was supposed to feel rejected, pursued, assaulted, or flattered. Maybe a caramel latte with two extra shots would help clear his mind. “Hey Harold,” he muttered as he passed and walked into the locker room again. Noah was already gone.


End file.
